The Life and Times of a Freak of Nature
by RandphStopBeingAManWhore
Summary: This is pretty much about necroboo characters. Albert and Tim-er with a few added bounus characters of mine and some that a friend of mine made. I already asked if I could use them.


The screams. Oh yes_, the screams_. It would've been tolerable if it weren't for all the blood and organs spilling from said screamers. Heck, even as a necromorph, it was crazy. 'Normal' people running this way and that, just making more of a mess. I could tell the Slashers were having a good time and the Infectors were very busy with all the new bodies. I, for one, was disgusted. How could they all love this? I would wonder to myself. Why do they not care if they lose a limb or two? Of course they wouldn't, because they _couldn't_ care. They knew that I would stitch them up no matter what.

Most people don't know but some of us can breed. Usually, it's the Slashers who can, but somehow my father, a Leaper and my mother, a Slasher, had me. I'm the freak of the colony. Most necromorphs are made by Infectors. I was made by my parents fucking.

Most of the time, the baby would stop growing only to become a Lurker or one of the new, stranger necromorphs, a Crawler. No one knows where the newer necromorphs came from. Whether from the Infectors or the Corruption, I don't know. Some babies grew to be part of the Pack or, if they were lucky, a Slasher. I didn't become a Slasher like my mother or a Leaper like my father. I, Albert Ivbroler, am a combination of both my parents.

I was almost rejected and killed as soon as I was born. My mother wasn't expecting me. My father had come back because of the smell of blood and bodily fluids. At first, they thought it was a Lurker or a Crawler but then they saw me. Both of them were surprised to find me on the floor, crying, still connected to my mother viva umbilical cord. My mother wanted to kill me, but my father stopped her. He must have seemed proud of the little killer he and my mother made. He cut me loose, and spoke in the tongue all necromorphs knew (and unforntunely I know too). Screams and moans. Along with the occasional shriek from the Exploders.

I remember the first time I saw an Infector infect someone.

I was two years old at the time. I was with my father because my mother was furious at him for letting me get lost in the vents. I was crawling along when I heard the screams. My father was going slower than usual because both him and I knew I was very slow at crawling in the vents. I looked out of one of the vent windows to see a dead body. Both my parents knew I had nightmares of the dead bodies of the people who were once the main species on the ship. I saw the Infector coming towards it. At the time, I didn't know what he or she (for you can never tell the sex until you saw a pair of Infectors "mating" as they called it; it was just rough fucking that looked like a pair of birds mating) was planning to do. I sat down as best I could for my Leaper tail was growing in. I watched it come up to the body. I saw me and froze, not sure what I was or going to do. I spoke in necromorph, telling him I was the son of a Slasher and Leaper and that I met no harm. It studied me for a few seconds till it deiced I really did mean no harm. It walked up to the body and pierced the head, having to bury its needle like appendage into the skull, pumping fluid into the brain chamber. Changing the genetic code that made the up the body forever. I know that I screamed for my father, and crawled, as fast as I could to find him. He come back, noticing that I was gone, was an about to scold me till he noticed how upset I was. I crying so hard I couldn't tell my parents what happened till that Infector came by and told them I saw him infect someone.

It was one of the most terrible experiences of my life. Or rather, my _undead_ life.

I slowly grew, developing the traits of both a Slasher _and_ of a Leaper. I developed the jaw, arms and tail and a Leaper. I have the body of a Slasher and the power and speed of one too. In this sick game of fate, I could very well be a death machine, to be one of the main destroyers of the human race. But I choose not to kill. Only feasting on human flesh if the body was dead. Helping the insane stay alive for a little bit. The other necromorphs loved it when I did that, rounding them up, only to find out that they were slaughtered. It was so strange to see people so afraid of me since I was the only reason they were alive.

My emotional mind was very quick to grow. I had decided what I wanted to do with my life since I was five. I knew I didn't like killing and feasting on the flesh of humans. I was thinking about how it would've felt if I was one of those people. Running and fighting for my life.

I have caused my mother and father so much trouble over the years. Since I had both traits of my mother and father, other necromorphs wanted to see if they could do the same. They wanted to breed killing machines. A lot of the female Slashers wanted me to fuck them. I declined, saying that I was with someone else. They wanted to know whom. I refused to tell them. I knew that I had to find someone to say that yes, I was with them but, who? I know for quite some time that I was gay but during the time I was 9 to the time I was 29 I had never thought about getting together with a guy. I was a bit repulsed by the idea of being with a man but, at the sometime, it made me want to see what it was like as a "faggot". Many necromorphs looked down upon the very few of us who were gay. At least half of the female population was gay, and most of us males were okay with it. Only one-third of the male population was bisexual, the gay population was a seventh of that. So not many man were openly gay. I somewhat wished for more, so that the females would leave me alone.

But then I saw him. Oh yes, him. He was a Leaper. He was a lot longer than the avenge Leaper and with more muscles. He noticed me and I hurried into the vents, afraid that if we met and chatted that I might get too attached to him or that we'll fight or that a group of humans might come around the corner and try to kill us before we meet. As I crawled my way to my home, I heard someone behind me. I guessed to was the usual people who lived right next to me but, no, it was that Leaper. He was a determined fellow. I raised my blades, for I didn't know if he wanted to fight for my home. My home was one of the nicest rooms you could find on there. It was big and plush. I had fought the Lurkers who lived there for it. They didn't need it and just wanted to hide from the motherly necromorphs who just want to "take care" of them. I made a deal we them that if I lived there, they could hide in it whenever they wanted to and that I would keep watch out for them.

"Hello…" He said in a very deep but, weak voice. Then I smelled it. The smell of decaying blood. _Necromorph blood_. "Where are you hurt?" I asked, not caring if he wanted to fight. He responded with "It's my back. I pulled a lot of stitches out," as I walked around him to see a huge wound. I know that I've been known as the "Healer" of us necromorphs. It's a hard job and you can't save everyone who's hurt.

After I stitched him up and began I bandaging him, I noticed little things. Like how he would grunt softly, so soft that you almost couldn't hear it, if I hit a tender spot. Or if I wound the bandage a little too tightly, he would yelp. I tried to chat with him for a bit, just because he was a patient and because he _seemed_ friendly enough. It turned out that he _was _friendly. He just wanted to ask me if I would fix his stitches. I felt my face heat up as I replied "I'm sorry. I just thought that you might've wanted to pick a fight with me," Lots of necromorphs picked fights with me. They would want me to fight and kill or to just eat fresh meat. I refused. IT was just too gross for me. I prefer dead meat than fresh.  
>Always.<p> 


End file.
